


Lost

by Agin



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anger, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Infidelity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2014-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-19 12:14:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2387903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agin/pseuds/Agin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John lost Sherlock, and he found Mary, and that should be the end of it, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost

**Author's Note:**

> That’s just a short moment which wouldn’t leave my mind.
> 
> No beta – so, probably, some mistakes are still pestering the text.

John breathes and he listens, and it’s a new kind of nightmare. One he will never wake up from. One which cuts him open, with a silent smile and gentle touches and words unspoken, it cuts him open down to the core and tears him apart and he should fight – is tired of fighting.

And John lies in bed and hears the familiar creaks and cracks of a flat which used to be his home and hears the breath of a man who used to be his friend.

The man who told him, “Don’t take your eyes off me.”

And John looked and he continued looking and looking for something to hold onto. Because Sherlock jumped and John was falling and falling and –

Does he actually love Mary? He thought he did. She was _there_ , and she held him and didn’t let go.

She felt right. She _feels_ right. Right? His wife.

 _You should have stayed dead_ , he thought on Sherlock’s return. _I hate you_ , he thought. But that’s a lie.

_Please, don’t be dead. Don’t leave me like that._

And John should be at home, now. It’s his wedding night. He should be at home with his pregnant wife, and he should love her and kiss her and hold her like she held him, and he should whisper gentle words into her ear and –

“You’re awake”, Sherlock states the obvious. He _never_ states the obvious. He doesn’t allow himself to be vulnerable, either. Doesn’t bend his neck and bare his throat and bare his – heart - and doesn’t let go of his mask of superiority.

_You are a machine. You’re cold and heartless and manipulative. You’ve been dead even before you jumped off a roof._

John didn’t make the conscious decision to leave his own wedding and follow Sherlock. He just did it. Followed the man who left again, and when they stood in their old living room, Sherlock said: “Stay.”

And John did.

Their first kiss was awkward and fumbling and _angry_. And they stumbled into bed, and Sherlock will bruise as well as John, and later they fell asleep.

It’s night and dark and Sherlock presses his face into the crook of John’s neck, kisses him there, breathes deep and slow and his arm closes around John’s chest.

They are naked and bare, and John is afraid.

“I’m married”, he says. “My wife is pregnant. I have responsibilities”, he says. “I don’t know, if I can ever trust you again”, he says. “We’ve returned to being friends. Yet, it’s not the same. You know that.”

“Yes.”

“You still want me to stay?”

Sherlock kisses his neck again, hides his face despite the darkness. “Yes.” It’s a silent whisper against bare skin.

Maybe, they are both afraid.


End file.
